


Cold Brew

by frostwitch



Series: SaiOuma Week (2020) [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Awkward Crush, College AU, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gay Oma Kokichi, Horrible use of grape Panta, M/M, Mild Language, Nervous Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi Is a Little Shit, POV Saihara Shuichi, POV Third Person Limited, Romantic Fluff, Sad Saihara Shuichi, Saiouma Week 2020, Tired Saihara Shuichi, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostwitch/pseuds/frostwitch
Summary: Chosen Prompt for Day #1: | Morning |Sleep-deprived and newly single, Shuichi decides to camp out in a coffee shop with the intention of cramming for his midterms. Unfortunately, the barista is a real piece of work.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Series: SaiOuma Week (2020) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856209
Comments: 26
Kudos: 275





	Cold Brew

Shuichi Saihara was not in the mood to put up with anyone else’s bullshit. 

He had far too many problems of his own to deal with at the moment. In just the past 48 hours, his forensic sciences exam had been moved up from Friday to tomorrow (due to “unforeseen circumstances” according to his professor’s incredibly vague email), there was a power outage so he couldn’t charge his laptop, he was sleep deprived from pulling two all-nighters in a row, none of his friends were answering his calls, and--worst of all--he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. 

There were bags under his puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and his hair was so disheveled that no attempts to stuff it under his hat flattened it. He knew both of these facts to be true, despite not having bothered to look in a mirror before leaving his apartment. The only thing on his mind as he slammed the door shut behind him was a cup of coffee. 

If someone asked, Shuichi wouldn’t say he was a coffee lover. Prior to this year, he hadn’t drunk it at all, deciding the temporary buzz from caffeine wasn’t worth the hassle of crashing. But lately, he couldn’t seem to get much done without it. His teachers expected him to be attentive and fully awake in class, so he didn’t have a choice. It took one cup for him to get up, dressed, and to class, two to make it to lunch, and by the end of the school day, he could practically feel the caffeine pumping through his veins. And it _worked_. As long as he drank enough coffee to get through his classes, he secured at least a B+ average at the end of the fall semester. 

At this rate, he worried he might get addicted, but that was a problem for future Shuichi. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of being future Shuichi. Instead he was sitting in some hole-in-the-wall coffee shop at 4:30 in the morning, crumbling apart under the weight of grades, tests, and textbooks that would barely matter in a couple months. 

He took a sip from his can to wash the sour taste of morning breath out of his mouth. A contented sigh swelled against his lips at the familiar sensation of his taste buds perking up. Just a few more minutes and the caffeine rush would kick in, allowing him to finally get some work done. 

Scanning the room for potential distractions, Shuichi set his already flat caffeinated soda down on a table with a window seat. It was the furthest place away from the door, an ideal location for a study session. He knew he was being overly cautious. Most of the downtown area’s shops were still closed, and traffic was scarce at this hour. Besides, who the hell would be crazy enough to join him?

No sooner than he had reclined in his chair, the edge of the cup hovering above his lips, the door flew open with a bang. Startled, Shuichi scrambled to avoid spilling his drink on himself. A few droplets scattered around him, but he was quick enough to wipe the wooden table legs off before they could seep in and leave behind a coffee-scented stain. 

The newcomer’s footsteps were loud, cracking like thunder against the cobblestone floor. Shuichi stiffened, each obnoxious _thud_ building up a steady rhythm in his head until it started to throb. Who the hell did this asshole think they were, and what was their problem? Whipping around to face the source of that earth shattering sound, his eyes widened at the strange scene playing out before him. 

Black, shiny, heeled boots stomped over to the register, pointed toes tapping impatiently as their owner pulled an apron over his head. They belonged to a boy--one Shuichi would’ve easily mistaken for a highschooler due to his height, if he hadn’t draped his blazer over a chair to the side, revealing the same university emblem on Shuichi’s uniform stitched to the right pocket. 

Immediately, his burnt out memory seized on the familiar detail, piquing his curiosity in a way the textbook in front of him could not. Shuichi didn’t normally gawk at strangers in public, much less some poor barista stuck working the early bird shift, but in an effort to make room for new information, his brain kicked out a good chunk of his common sense. 

The boy huffed, propping himself up against a pastry display case, allowing Shuichi to get a good look at his face.

Black purple-tipped hair fanned out around his neck and shoulders, framing his cherub-like face. Big round eyes with dark circles underneath stared up at the ceiling, glinting violet under the room’s lighting. His skin was ghostly pale, and the light bounced off of his full cheeks and narrow chin, giving him an ethereal glow. The little shadow cast by his button nose added to the dreamlike atmosphere, drawing attention to the subtle cupid’s bow of his upper lip. 

He was undeniably attractive, and anyone with two fully-functional eyes would undoubtedly agree. And then he opened his mouth.

“Wow, you look like shit!” 

Shuichi’s head jerked up so quickly he thought his neck might snap. The boy was staring at him with a vicious intensity, as though he were imagining in this very moment how satisfying it would feel to stab his customer in the chest. Shuichi boldly met his gaze, looking on in disbelief as the boy drummed his fingers lazily. His small mouth curled into a thin, tart smile as he leaned over the counter. For someone with such an angelic face, he sounded so… sardonic. There was an edge to his voice, razor sharp, like he wouldn’t hesitate to cut through anyone who got in his way. 

Too tired to care about pretending to be polite and productive, Shuichi closed his textbook. His eyes were wide open, probably as a result of the caffeine high, or possibly something a little less… chaste. They lingered on the boy’s face as he tried to come up with a response, hopefully one that would make him look smart.

“So... are you gonna make me wait all day, or what?”

Taken aback, Shuichi blinked hard. Something clicked in his brain as he finally registered that the first words the boy had said to him were an insult. “Excuse me?”

Ignoring the question, the boy rocked back on his heels. “You heard me. Or maybe you didn’t. Your eyes are pretty bloodshot, y’know, it’s not a stretch to assume your ears are clogged up too.”

Shuichi’s jaw dropped open. The barista rested his cheek in one hand, propping himself up with an elbow. It occurred to Shuichi that he must look pretty clueless, because the smile on the boy’s face stretched into a full-blown smirk. 

“I’m no psychiatrist, but you’re not the first basket case I’ve seen walk in here. By the looks of it, you’re five minutes away from a nasty crash. Bet you haven’t slept for at least a week.” 

“Are you always this rude to customers,” Shuichi muttered, squinting at the boy’s name tag, “...Kimchi?”

Snorting at the obvious mistake, the boy straightened up. “Nah, you’re just special.” 

“Yeah…?” A sharp pang shot through Shuichi’s head, making him clutch at his temple. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Aw, that’s a bummer. And here I thought a boy with such pretty eyes couldn’t be boring.” The boy studied his nails, picking at the already chipped black polish on them.

Was he… _flirting_? No, this had to be some kind of practical joke. Whatever it was supposed to be, Shuichi felt the familiar heat of his temper flare to life. Concealing pent-up anger on a daily basis was no easy task, and after being so openly provoked, his patience was growing thin. 

“Well then I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he shot back, tone sharp. Startled by his sudden change in demeanor, the boy’s eyes found his face. Only this time, they were filled with a messy mix of surprise and intrigue, and… was that a hint of regret? Somehow, shocking him into silence wasn’t as satisfying as he thought.

Reflexively, he winced, chewing on his lip to relieve some of the uncomfortable tension between them. Surely this boy didn’t deserve the same harsh tone he reserved for the occasional, stilted phone conversations he had with his parents. He opened his mouth to apologize, but was cut off by a hand pressed to his forehead. The boy’s slender fingers parted slightly as he pressed his palm against his skin, cool and pleasant. 

It took Shuichi a moment to realize he’d been leaning into his touch. 

“Ah…! Hey, that’s…!”

He jolted back, nearly toppling over the chair behind him in an effort to hide the rosy flush that crept across his cheeks. 

“Yup, I was right! You’re gonna need something a _lot_ stronger than coffee. Please take a seat.”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow at the unexpected show of consideration. So he _could_ use manners when he wanted to.

“Sit down,” the barista demanded, arms crossed pointedly. His eyes narrowed when Shuichi didn’t move. 

“Unless you want to pass out. Go ahead if you really want to, but I think you’re smarter than that,” he twirled a black sharpie between bony knuckles, probably imagining all the things he could draw on Shuichi’s face while he was unconscious. The mischievous glint in his eyes confirmed those suspicions.

Shuichi sat down. 

With a contented sigh, the boy switched on some background music and got to work. Shuichi busied himself with prying the tab off of the empty soda can. He fiddled with it to keep himself awake for the next few minutes, tuning out everything but the soft steady hum of electricity from the lights above. 

“Boo.” 

Shuichi jumped at the whisper, shivering a little when he felt the sensation of warm breath on his neck. 

“Neeheehee, you should’ve seen your face!” 

Snickering, the boy pulled away, sliding into the seat directly across from him. He put down the mug in his hand directly in front of Shuichi, easing into a more comfortable posture. Shuichi eyed it skeptically, much to the amusement of the barista. 

The drink looked and smelled like coffee, but upon closer inspection, it stained the sides of the mug with a potent purple pigment. “Uh… what exactly did you put in this?”

“What, you think I wanna poison you?” He tilted his head to the side, pouting slightly. 

Shuichi responded with a quick shake of his head, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. While he couldn’t deny the thought had crossed his mind, it would be irrational and straight-up sloppy for him to drug or murder Shuichi like this. There were pieces of evidence all over the place and several more customers might stop by in the next hour, not to mention they both went to the same university, which would make his death that much easier to trace. 

Shuichi brought the mug to his lips under the boy’s unwavering gaze. Just one small sip couldn’t hurt...right? 

Immediately, he gagged. It tasted like someone had taken coffee, whipped cream, and an entire bag of grape flavored candy, and then boiled everything together until it reached the consistency of a runny undercooked sponge cake. 

“What--” he choked, spitting out as much of the nauseating concoction as possible, “the _fuck_ did you put in this?!”

“Oh! I made you a mocha latte, but it was too bitter. So I added some grape Panta to make it taste better!” The grin on his face stretched far too wide to belong to someone who’d made an innocent mistake.

“Wh-- that’s disgusting, why?!” 

“Maybe I just wanted to teach you a little lesson.” The boy smirked, resting his chin on folded hands. 

Determined to ignore the way his temper flared in his chest, Shuichi paused and took a deep breath before carefully articulating his next words. 

“And what lesson exactly am I supposed to learn from a grumpy barista pouring grape soda into my coffee?” 

Another snort erupted from the other side of the table. “To be ready for anything life throws at you, of course.”

Of course. 

“And,” he added, running a hair through his silky plum locks, “you’re gonna feel even more stupid during exams if you keep this up.” 

Shuichi opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. The barista could probably see the gears in his head turning, but he tried not to be distracted by it. 

“Seriously? I was standing right in front of you this whole time, but you didn’t notice me take a six pack of grape Panta out of my bag. Are you _really_ gonna be able to focus on some boring test for three hours?”

Well, shit. He had a point. 

Chuckling softly, the boy cracked open the display case behind him and pulled out a water bottle. He held it out to Shuichi expectantly. “Here. Consider this my apology, it’s on the house.” 

Eyeing the bottle skeptically, Shuichi took it. Thankfully, it was just water, and not some other grape-flavored abomination. Only then did it occur to Shuichi that he might be slightly dehydrated. With those gorgeous purple eyes watching him intently, he emptied half the bottle before giving a satisfied sigh. 

“Are you still tired? It’s not much, but there’s a bench in the back room. It's really comfortable, I sleep there all the time,” he offered, leaning in to close most of the gap between them. 

Mesmerized by the soft chuckle that left the boy in front of him, it occurred to Shuichi how strange this situation really was. And why was he being so considerate all of a sudden? Unease fluttered, its wings unfurling against a disconcerning warmth in the pit of his stomach. 

“Um… don’t take this the wrong way, but aren’t you being a little too nice?” 

The boy tilted his head quizzically. “No, why?”

“Well… you insulted me, and then you pranked me, and now you think I’m going to just take you up on an offer like that out of nowhere. That’s pretty weird if you ask me.” 

“Oh, that was nothing!” the boy waved his hand dismissively. 

“Ah… hah. What?” 

Shuichi was starting to have doubts that, even with a good night’s rest, he’d be able to understand such an enigmatic answer. 

“I lie and pull pranks a lot, mostly ‘cause it’s fun to see people’s reactions! The faces they make when they find out I fooled them are so funny!” 

Then, in a lower voice, he murmured: “But I wasn’t lying earlier. You do have pretty eyes.”

Steam might as well have been pouring out of Shuichi’s ears, given how it took less than a second for him to turn redder than a tomato.

“Okay, you definitely have a fever. I’m making the executive decision to detain you, pretty boy!” He sang, all traces of vulnerability gone in a blink. 

“Wha-- hey, wait a second!” Shuichi protested as the boy dragged him towards a door marked ‘employees only.’ The room spun, and before he knew it, he was sitting down somewhere very comfortable. 

Two hands--notably smaller than his own--gently pushed him flat on his back. Waggling his eyebrows, the boy put a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh. I promise not to draw on your face while you’re sleeping if you swear you won’t tell my boss I let you back here.” 

Mumbling something he hoped sounded like “thank you,” Shuichi cupped a hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. 

“Hey, not so fast!” Shuichi groaned weakly as the boy jabbed a finger into his ribcage.

“You’re not allowed to fall asleep until you tell me your name, pretty boy,” He ordered. “Unless you want me to keep calling you ‘pretty boy’ in front of everyone.” 

“I’m Sh….’ichi…. Shuichi Saiha...ra.” 

Was it his imagination, or did the ghost of a genuine smile cross the boy’s lips just then? 

The last thing he remembered hearing was, “Of course a pretty boy like you has a pretty name, too.” 

. . .

When Shuichi woke up, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled his lungs. He opened his eyes, surprised to see a school blazer much smaller than his own draped over his neck and shoulders.

Did it belong to… ?

It was then that Shuichi noticed the message written in purple ink on his arm. A string of digits—probably a phone number—and underneath it, a note that read:

_Call me if you ever need a study buddy ;)_

_~ Kimchi <3_

There was a doodle of the barista’s face directly above his elbow. Shuichi traced over it with a fond smile, making a mental note to wear long sleeved shirts for the next couple days.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time participating in SaiOuma week and I'm a little rusty when it comes to writing, so the piece is a bit rough around the edges. I tried to keep everything in-character while making it as fluffy as possible, but you can probably pinpoint the exact spot where I ran out of steam. Still, I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Good news: I have several other works lined up for the rest of SaiOuma week and intend to polish and post them ASAP.
> 
> Bad news: My new meds made my brain so foggy I was barely able to write more than a sentence for any of them, so they probably won't be exactly on time.
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me, I promise it'll be worth the wait!
> 
> _____________________________________________
> 
> ***EDIT: @ReturnToZero drew some AMAZING fan art of Big Boots Kokichi and I'm going to make all of you look at it https://twitter.com/ZettaWrites/status/1289786855680913409


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